he finally won
by jessbynature
Summary: when life gives you lemons make lemonade. when you're dad blows alcohol in your face, hold it in because you will eventually come on top. you will eventually have your say. you will eventually win. rated t for language.


Something brand new and completely out of my element.  
Hope you guys enjoy.  
and please **review.**

* * *

It was Mommy that tucked him in every night.  
It was Mommy that would read him a bed time story.  
It was Mommy that would sing him a lullaby.  
It was Mommy that gave him a goodnight kiss and said _I love you._  
It was Mommy.  
_Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy._

.

He didn't realize the first time it happened. He was too little to see the symptoms, to set apart the differences. It was one o' clock in the morning and he was in bed (like all the 3 year olds should be) when he heard it. Someone was in the kitchen. Someone was in the kitchen making a lot of noise. He got out of bed and went to see what was happening. It was daddy.

(He never really saw his Daddy at home. Mommy said that he worked a lot. He worked every day to make sure they all lived a happy life.)

He peeked over the corner of the kitchen because he knew he was supposed to be in bed and oh Mommy would kill him if she saw that he wasn't. He saw his father as he stumbled and grumbled and moaned. _Why? Why was he so noisy? _He watched as he reached for a big bottle and brought it to his lips; spilling the drink all over himself and the floor. The boy watched as his Daddy groaned and bumped into the counter, yelling. _At himself? _He looked at his father and shrugged because he knew all his Daddy was doing was getting a midnight snack. He wants a snack sometimes too but maybe only the grownups could have them.

.

"Mommy, when is Daddy going to be home?" The _single _mom looked at her six year old son and frowned. (God, knows when he'll be home)

"Soon."

"Mommy, I miss Daddy." He tossed the baseball up and down.

"Honey, he'll be home soon."

Up and down.

"But I want to play ball."

Up and down.

_Up and down._

_Up and down._

"Whenever he comes home it's always too dark or I'm in bed."

Up and down.

Silence.

"I'll play ball with you, honey. C'mon."

_silence._

_up and down. _

.

He comes home one day before 10 o' clock, before his son, Phil is tucked away in bed where he would be dreaming, dreaming of playing ball with his dad. He takes a long time to unlock and open the front door. He stumbles in and Phil can't help himself, he hasn't seen his father the entire week so he runs, he runs and runs until he collides with his father.

(He thought it'd be like in the tv shows when the dad comes home and the son runs to give him a hug and the father catches his son and he laughs and the son laughs and he throws him in the air and they laugh and laugh and-)

"Ugh, get him off of me."

He doesn't get it. Why is he hugging his father's leg and no one is hugging him back? Why is no one picking him up? Why is no one… _laughing_?

"Will you get his off my fucking leg?" He yells- no he roars. His mother picks him up as he's too surprised to even realize what's going on. _Why is no one laughing?_ "I work all those fucking hours and when I get home I expect to have time to rest. I don't want people running at me." He steps in front of Phil, his face so close, _so close_, "Leave the man who is the only reason you're not homeless alone." And he smells it. His father's breath smells so bad that he has to shut his eyes. It almost knocks him down (if his mother wasn't holding him, of course.) He opens his eyes and his dad's not even there anymore; he's on the couch, one hand with a bottle and the other with the TV remote.

.

"Hey Mom, look at me!" He's wearing only a pair of underwear and knee pads (that are supposed to be used only when he's riding his bike).

"What in the world?"

"I'm a wrestler!" He flexes his arms and makes grunting noises, "Look at my muscles. Look at them!"

"Oh dear, they're so big!" She laughs and places a hand around his arm. "You're probably stronger than Superman!"

"Do you think I'm stronger than Dad?"

Silence

"Do you?"

_Silence._

"Of course!"

_Silence. _

.

"I just don't understand why you have to come home so late! I know your shift is over at six. So tell me, why are you always home past midnight?"

"It's none of your business."

"It is my damn business because I need to know what you're doing! Are you cheating on me? No, you wouldn't- no one would want to be with you anyway."

"Watch your fucking mouth!"

He was sitting on the stairs watching, watching his mother scream and his father_ roar_.

"I know what you're doing you're spending money on booze! You get home so late because you go to the pub and drink the night away. And then you come home and drink some more!"

Booze.

Booze.

Pub.

Booze.

_Alcohol_.

"Well guess what? You're not gonna be able to drink anymore. At least not at home. I emptied every bottle in this house," she ignores the wild look that breaks through his father's eyes, "You're no example for Phil. I don't-"

"You got rid of all the alcohol?" He was screaming again, but this time he looked like a maniac.

"I don't want you like that around our son. It's no example, you're always drunk!"

Drunk.

He sees his father's arm pull back and he knows what comes next (considering he watches wrestling behind his mother's back and all.) he jumps up from the stairs and runs toward his father with his fist out and punches him in the stomach as hard as he could. There's gasps, screams, oh and a hand grabbing his shirt lifting him from the ground. But somehow he's on the floor again and his father is slamming the front door and his mother is holding his face and crying. Oh gosh, she's crying. She's crying and mumbling. Mumbling incoherent things to him and he looks at her, into her eyes but doesn't see anything just hears something in his head. Something saying:

_Alcohol _+ _Father_ = **Drunk Man Who Doesn't Give A Shit About Anyone But His Booze.**

(now he gets it.)

.

Now that he knows what has always made his father be, well his father he swears on never touching that shit. He's older now, wiser- some say his too wise for his age but he doesn't get it. (Wisdom has no age.) His father is still well, his father. (There is no definition to who he is or how he is but the reason that he's his father, his fucking father.) He still comes home past midnight, he still gets drunk, (oh and now smokes cigarettes too.) he still doesn't give a shit about him or his mother, and in return Phil decides to become the man of the house. He swore to never ever, oh he means never ever _ever_ be like his father. Meaning he will never ever ever_ ever_ touch the things he sees as poison; Alcohol, Drugs and Cigarettes. Because if he touched any of that, then he'd be his father and that's something he will **_never ever ever_ be. **

.

He wrestles. It's as simple as that, when he was little it was a secret he kept from his mother. Not only a secret but somewhat of an escape, an escape from his own _Daddy. _It also helped him in life. Who would've thought a young man from Chicago would need wrestling in life? Well he does. In fact every time his father came home drunk (which was every fucking day.) and he would push the limits (meaning he'd raise his arm at either him or his mother.) he would let him fucking have it. Straight to the face because his father doesn't run that house anymore, he does and he is **unfuckwithable.**

.

High School changes people. At least that's what they always say. That teenagers are so high on fucking testosterone (cough cough, drugs and booze cough cough) that they change. Well, Phil isn't like that. Because he actually has things to do and worry about. He is the sole reason why his mother is still somewhat stable and the reason why his house is still up. He goes to school and to his surprise he makes friends. Lots of friends. He goes to parties. Lots of Parties. He sees Alcohol. Lots of Alcohol. He takes none. Because he's Straight Edge and that's just who he his (not his father.).

.

He wrestles after school. In public, with audience, without audience, in his basement... you name it. He's there. It's a passion that he has, and not to be cocky and all, he's a _fucking good wrestler_.

.

"So you think you're gonna get anywhere in life wrestling?"

Silence.

There's silence not because of how slurred the words are and how impossible it was to understand what was said but because it was his father talking to_ him._ And he doesn't talk to his father, especially when he's drunk.

"Don't you hear me boy?"

Silence.

_Silence._

"Fucking child. You-"

"I'm **not **a child anymore! Then again, you wouldn't know. You spent your entire life living with blurry eyes. You haven't even realized that I've grown, I'm a man now. I'm a 17 years old, I'm **the **man of this house. And you're lucky-"

He gets punched. It's not like he didn't see it coming considering you don't yell at drunks. It's too loud in their heads as it is. He raises his fist, and looks his father in the eyes but when the worn out man in front of him laughs he frowns and puts his hand down.

"You're right. You're completely right. I missed your entire life. I missed the opportunity to be a father, I missed the opportunity to see my son grow, to raise him myself. You're _right._"

Silence.

_you're right. _

Silence.

"I hate you."

"You have every right to-"

"I _hate _you."

"I know Phil-"

"I **hate **you."

"Phillip, I know I did wrong-"

"That's not my name."

"What?"

"That's not my name, I'm not Phillip or Phil or whatever you want to fucking call me. I want nothing that links me to you."

"Then what is your name?"

Silence.

_Silence._

Laughter.

Silence.

_Laughter._

"I still can't believe you want to be a wrestler. You know you're going to fail-" and the fist comes flying at the drunk's face. He falls back on his chair and it's like this whole conversation was just the booze talking.

"My name is CM Punk. And I am _no _failure. A failure is what _you_ are."

Silence.

Laughter.

(This time the laughter wasn't coming from his father it was coming from himself because he unlike his father knew where he wanted to go in life or maybe he finally just lost it.)

.

"Hey, Punk take one. Just one. I promise it won't hurt."

Laughter.

(it's never a good thing when there's laughter.)

"Sorry, I don't smoke." He pushes his friends' hand away and scrunches his nose at the horrid smell.

Laughter.

"We know, Punk. But you got to try it before you say no."

Silence.

(They probably think he's considering taking that piece of shit but the only reason why he's quiet is because he's trying not to let his fist fly into his friend's face.)

"No."

"How bout some Vodka?"

"No"

Laughter.

"You're such a joke."

Silence.

"How bout steroids, wrestler?"

Silence.

Laughter.

Laughter. Laughter.

(something a person needs so much of in life. a thing he can't _stand_.)

"C'mon Punk is that why they call you _punk_? Cause you can't hang with the big dogs?"

He punches him. Punches him so hard that he's pretty sure he broke his nose.

(being a wrestler comes in handy.)

"I **am **the big dog."

Silence.

Laughter.

(his laughter.)

.

He spends countless hours wrestling. Countless hours perfecting his moves. Perfecting himself. He knows a gym with a ring and he goes there everyday. Sometimes he even has adversaries. And he beats them. He beats them all the time. He _wins. _(something he's not used to outside the square.) and he feels like a _champion._

Champion.

(like the ones on tv. just like them.)

_Champion._

_LaughterLaughterLaughter_. LaughterLaughterLaughter.

(lots of laughter.)

.

Maybe if he would become a champion he'd make his mother proud. Make her forget the past and just be happy.

Silence.

Maybe his father would be proud to.

_silencesilencesilencesilence._

Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. laughterlaughterlaughter_laughter_.

(so much laughter that he can't fucking breathe.)

.

Drug Free. Straight Edge. _Tattoos. _He paints his body. He paints it with things that have meaning to him. Things that make him happy. Things that makes him strong.

.

He gets a gig. Ring Of Honor _finally _calls up the legendary CM Punk. Sure, it's not World Wrestling Entertainment but it'll do. He'll make it there someday. (Everyone in Chicago knew him. Whether it was because of his sweet then destroyed mother or because of his drunk father or maybe because of his many fights with people in the streets. either way they all knew him.) He'll be an ROH champion and then a WWE champion.

Champion.

_Champion._

Silence.

_laughter._

_laughter. laughter. laughter. laughter._

_laughter. silence. laughter. silence. laughter. _silence_._

_._

His mother calls him. Tells him his father has done the unthinkable. He's stopped, stopped drinking, smoking- everything.

Laughter.

Laughter.

"It's true, Phil."

(the only person allowed to call him that.)

"Tell me you've forgiven him."

Silence.

Laughter_._

(the silence obviously meant yes.)

of _fucking_ course.

.

He makes it to the big league. Fucking finally. He's _home. _

Maybe he's got a chance at being a champion.

Champion.

Silence.

A chance at being the top dog.

Top Dog.

Silence.

Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. _laughter.  
_

_silence._

.

"Punk, I'm sorry."

It's been a long _long_ time. He's held titles, a few but none were the WWE championship. Oh and his father's finally apologized but what good does that do?

Laughter.

"I really am."

Laughter.

"I need you to listen to me. You don't need to forgive me. Hell, I don't expect you to forgive me- at all. But I need you to know that I regret everyday ever since you've been born. I fucked up. Big time. The biggest fuck up of them all- not having a family. Well I had one but completely pushed it aside. I wish- If I could go back in time, I would. In a heartbeat. Never pick up a bottle, a cigarette... I've stopped you know? Your mom well she changed me. She started talking to me when you left and I changed. A lot. I realized who I married and how much I took her for granted."

Silence.

"I have nightmares. Every day. Every time I close my eyes. Heck, even when I'm awake I have nightmares. And the one thing that haunts me the most is the fact that I've hurt _you_. The fact that I've raised my hand at you. The fact I raised my hand at your mother. The fact that I _robbed _you of a childhood. I just need to let you know that I'm sorry, sorry for hurting you, for insulting you, for hitting you, for yelling at you, for _doubting_ you. I'm _so_ proud of you, champ."

Silence.

_fucking silence._

"I love you."

Laughter.

_fucking laughter._

(am i being punk'd?)

.

He did it. He actually did it. It happened, many many years later and he's _finally _**fucking **_finally _WWE champion.

Champion.

Champion.

WWE Champion.

_WWE Champion._

He's _home. _

This ring is his home. His _real_ home. This ring, this company is his _life._

He's finally **fucking **finally **_won._**

(maybe he didn't have the best childhood. maybe he didn't have the best father. maybe he didn't have the best friends. maybe he had a _fucked _up life- no he definately did. but that is what made him who he is now. The first **Straight Edge ****WWE Champion, CM Punk.**)

.

He is CM Punk.  
He is Straightedge.  
He is WWE Champion.  
He is not alone.  
He is strong.  
He is home.  
He is _unfuckwithable._

He **won.**

* * *

Please_ Review. _  
I would _love _to hear your opinions on everything. From the story line to the formatting of the story.  
I know it's long and honestly if you read this all, i love you so much.  
Took a long time to write and it can take seconds to review.  
Ps: anonymous reviews are allowed.  
xoxo


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